Spellbound
by Unpiblished
Summary: After being hidden away in convents for the last five years, Brione Powell has been shipped off for the last time: to Hogwarts. Of course, being a year six with the knowledge of a first year has its drawbacks, but with a friend circle including Irene Adler, John Watson, Molly Hooper, Mary Morstan and Sherlock Holmes, what could go wrong?
1. Chapter One

Nervously I taped my fingers on my leg, trying to remember to breath normally.

"Are you alright Miss Powell?"

"Yes, sorry. Nervous I guess."

"Ah don't worry, I'm sure you'll feel right at home here," the headmaster said to me with a smile. I sent him a withering look as I stood, slinging my meager bag over my shoulder and gratefully taking the bundle of material he handed me before turning to exit his... Office? Study? Magic gargoyle protected room?

Shaking my head I walked down the stairs, taking a minute to look wearily back at the statue that, not too long ago, had spoken.

Guess that's what I had too look forward to here.

Heaven help me.

Self consciously I walked down the halls, praying I wouldn't bump into any students since it was, from what the headmaster said, class time. Mindlessly I held the my bundle of new possessions to my chest, trying to hide the fact I was still in my oversized jumper and jeans from the strange train ride over.

I'm still trying to to think about that one.

"Who's that?"

I paused, turning to see who had spoken, but the hall behind me was just as empty as when I'd walked through it. Shaking of my no doubt declining mental health I pressed on through the hall.

"No, definitely haven't seen her before."

This time I pressed on. Walking through platform pillars, hearing voices in my head, what's the difference?

"Hey girl, what's your name?"

"Honestly girl, it's quite rude to ignore people when they're talking to you."

"Come now, we're just trying to figure your name!"

I whirled around, once more finding the hall empty. Taking a shaky breath I moved turn and probably sprint down the hall when movement caught my eye. My head whipped to the side to come face to face with... a painting.

"There, now's I've gotten your attention-"

"Oh my God," I gasped, my hand clutching my chest as I staggered back. My other hand covered my face as I worked on slowing my breathing. "They talk, the paintings talk."

"Well of course we talk, what else are we supposed to do all day?!" the woman in the painting asked indignantly.

"Fair enough," I said weakly, approaching the painting with caution.

"Now, as I was saying, what's your name girl?"

"Brione, Brione Powell."

"Lovely to meet you! Although we're a good two months into the year, how come you're just comin' now?"

"Long story," I mumbled pathetically, avoiding eye contact. Eye contact? Paint contact?

"Well I'm sure you'll have a lovely time here!" she said brightly.

"So people keep telling me," I muttered.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing. Thank you. I should get changed before class gets out," I said awkwardly.

"Oh yes, you'll stick out like a sore thumb you will! You know where you're going, yea?"

"Yes thank you. Nice to meet you!" I said before quickly scampering off around the corner. Wearily I eyed the paintings around me, but finding with some relief that they were all conspicuously deserted of living figures. Pressing on down the hall I followed the mental map the Headmaster had explained to me, quickly finding my way at the bottom of a spiraling staircase. Steeling my nerves I made my way up to the handleless door that'd been described. Ok, more talking things.

"Um-"

"Pretend you know nothing of the appearance of an elephant.

You and two companions are walking through the wild when you happen upon a rhino and a hippo. One friend claims the rhino is an elephant, the other claims the hippo is and elephant. Whom do you believe and why?"

I balked, staring at the talking eagle door knocker. Ok, talking statues, talking painting, and now the talking door knocker, were my socks going to tell me what foot they preferred being on next?

Furrowing my brow I played the riddle through my head again, pursing my lips tried to piece together a logical conclusion.

"Uh, you said I don't know what an elephant looks like, not that I don't know what a rhino and a hippo looks like, so I should trust neither of them."

"Well reasoned," he (she?) said evenly, the door swinging open. Releasing a relieved breath I hurried into the room, lest the door close on me and I manage to strand myself in the stairway. All my thoughts left me though when I entered what looked to be a common room. It was a beautiful circular room with windows all around, and stars painted on the ceiling with bronze and blue silks draping down hug the walls. Spaced around the room were chairs and tables and bookcases and couches that looked like everything I'd ever dreamed of having growing up. Directly in front of me was a little alcove filled with books, the archway flanked by Bronze statues of eagles standing proudly on marble pillars, but what what caught my eye was the marble statue of a woman, just under the arch, one of her arms curled over her chest, the other reaching out. I walked closer to get get a better look, a door behind the lady caught my eye. Breathing a sigh of relief upon the sight of 'Girls' scripted on the door I quickly moved past the statue and pushed open the door and started up the tightly curled staircase until I reached the top just like the headmaster had instructed. Just my luck, one I had text books this trek was going to be a pain. Unless we didn't use text books. Do they have wizard text books?

I blew a piece of hair out of my face as I entered the archway, taking note of the relatively lofty dorm room. Pushed into nooks in the wall were the beds, large windows behind them with curtains on both side of the bed for privacy. Sticking out from the wall into the room like the spokes on a wheel were a desk and wardrobe, creating a good almost a little bubble for each individual space. From the looks of it, all the beds but one were occupied, the one immediately to the left of the door. Shakily I took my bag off my shoulder and tossed the pile of clothes on my bed, taking a minute to take in my new living space for the next few months. Curiously I opened the wardrobe, finding nothing more than empty hangers inside. The drawers were equally as empty so I turned to the desk in hopes of... something. Unfortunately the desk, having only two shallow drawers containing quills and parchment as well as a bronze letter opener, offered no more answers than the wardrobe. Anxiously pulling my hair away from my neck over one shoulder I spun slowly around, looking for anything to help put me at ease, but I found no familiarity here. Of course I probably wouldn't have felt any familiarity at a normal boarding school either.

With one last weary glance at the door I peeled off my oversized jumper and tank top, grabbing the white button up shirt from the pile of clothes I'd been given. After pulling it over my head and buttoning the last few buttons I grabbed the tie, yes a tie, and slid it around my neck before tying it at my throat, pulling on the jumper last of all. Unhappily I picked up the skirt and tossed it on the desk, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down when I kicked something hard under the bed while I was trying to shimmy out of the familiar denim. After nursing my poor foot I knelt down, immediately coming face to face with a large green trunk. Hesitantly I pulled it out from under the bed, taking a deep breath before unlatching it and flipping open the lid.

I sat back on my heels as I looked at the strange contents of my trunk. What kind of school was this?

The magical kind.

Oh yea.

Something caught my eye though in the neatly organized trunk, a thick white envelope with beautiful dark letters staining the surface.

_B. Powell_

Well that's me. Accepting my fate I grabbed the letter opener and broke open the envelope, pulling out an expensively thick piece of paper with the same elegant cursive as the envelope as well as... stockings?

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

_Dear Miss Powell,_

_so glad to have you. Take these._

_~ I.A._

Awesome, I had people giving me letters with lingerie in them. Although I did have to admit the light material looked more appealing than the thick tights I'd been given. Still, day one and getting in trouble for dress code was kind of a bad thing. What the hellI rolled my eyes and pulled on the stockings without another thought, slipping on the black flats I'd been given to finish the ensemble.

Polyvore: ravenclaw/set?id=97719576

Ok now what?

To keep my hands busy I worked on putting away the few clothes that I had, leaving most of the space in my wardrobe empty no matter how I divided up the material. After that I rearranged the drawers to how I imagined they'd be most efficient. Honestly why a school that flew around on broomsticks still used quills was beyond me but, you know, when in Rome.

By the time I'd rearranged the strange contents in my trunk for the third time I finally decided to give up and put it away.

"Ooh, lovely view."

I jumped, the top of my head impacting the frame of my bed. Quickly I sat back on my heels, twisting my shoulders around to find the source of the voice, hopefully not another bloody painting. Instead of moving canvas though I was greeted by two girls.

"I'm sorry love, didn't mean to give you a fright," the dark haired girl said, her piercing blue eyes shrewd and observing.

"I uh, I think live," I said awkwardly. The girls in front of me didn't look any different than those I'd pass on the street. Definitely prettier than the average girl, but no glowing particles surrounding them or warts. Honestly I was feeling rather disappointed that The Wizard of Oz hadn't prepared me for this moment in my life.

"Irene, you're horrible," the little blond girl next to 'Irene' said. She smiled at me, reaching out an hand to help me up. "I'm mary Morstan by the way."

"Brione Powell," I replied, shakily accepting her hand and letting her hoist me up.

"That's Irene, pay her no mind, she's just shameless."

"What's there to be ashamed of?" the darker haired girl said with a grin, moving with an natural grace over to her bed on the opposite side of the door and laying down, letting her long, slender legs rest on the wall.

"So this makes three of us, who's the forth girl here?" I asked curiously.

"Not important," Irene said dismissively. "Mary be a dear and grab my book for me, will you?"

"Irene, can't you see that mummy's busy?" Mary said rolling her eyes. Across the room I heard the other girl huff, digging her wand out of her robe and pointing the stick at her desk, the book in question floating over to her.

"Anyways, that's Rebekah's bunk, but she hasn't used it since the first week of school. She always sneaks into the Slytherin's dorms to cuddle with that boyfriend of hers. I'm pretty sure there's more of Molly's clothes in that wardrobe than Rebekah's."

"Molly?"

"Oh yes, Molly! She's a good friend of ours from Hufflepuff. Irene convinces her to stay over here most nights because she's determined to corrupt the poor girl."

"I merely think she could do with a bit more excitement in her life," Irene sniffed, not bothering to look up from her book.

"So what classes do you have?," Marry asked, pointedly turning her back to her friend.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks.

"First year classes," Irene supplied.

"Yes, thank you," I muttered.

"First year?" Mary asked. "You've got to be at least-"

"Sixteen. Yea, I'm a bit behind."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," she murmured, looking almost as embarrassed as felt.

"Yea, well my step dad was a priest and he roped my mom into his religious fanaticism, so when I got the freaky owl letter on my 11th birthday, I got shipped off to a convent."

"Mmm a convent girl-"

"Honestly Irene!" Mary said, chucking a book from her desk at the girl that she deftly caught, giving Mary a smirk before tossing it at the foot of her bed.

"Yea, well it turns out not even nuns could suppress my... um..."

"Magic," Mary supplied.

"Yea," I answered lamely.

"We'll get you up to speed," Irene said simply.

"I'm supposed to be in year six by now, yea? That's rather ambitious," I replied.

"I've always loved a challenge," Irene purred.

"Alright, that's it, enough's enough. I'm going to take Brione to lunch before you have her running off in the other direction, you can join us if you promise to behave."

Irene seemed to ponder the little blonde girl's offer before sighing dramatically and sweeping into a sitting position.

"I think, perhaps I can manage."


	2. Chapter Two

"Honestly, you're overreacting," Irene said boredly as she took another bit out of her apple.

"You got her expelled!" Mary hissed.

"From what she says, it was worth it," the girl grinned, making Mary irritatedly throw a roll at her.

"Oh come on, you can't just leave it at that!" a boy yelled as he stalked into the Great Hall where everyone was joined for lunch.

"Oh come now John, you've argued this point into the ground," the boy in front of him said dismissively, taking the empty spot next to me. The blond boy, John apparently, stood behind the boy now occupying the seat next to mine, his fists clenching and unclenching as he glared.

"Sherlock, there's a right and a wrong here, and right now you're wrong!" he finished, stalking away to the... oh what was it called?

"Gryffindor."

"What?" I asked, turning to the boy.

"That's the Gryffindor table."

Great, now there were mind readers.

"Oh hello Sherlock, haven't seen you at the meal tables in a while," Irene smirked, locking her sharp, crystal clear eyes on the dark haired, pale boy. Sherlock I think his friend had called him... well companion at least. Could that be right though? Who named their child Sherlock?

"Ah, Miss Adler, how nice to see you," he replied in a tone that implied he was in no way happy to see my roommate.

"Seen Molly around?" Irene pressed.

"Contrary to your beliefs, I'm not Molly's chaperone, I don't always know where she is."

"I never said you were her **chaperone**."

"What are you implying?"

"Oh nothing," she said all too innocently. "I've just taken a notice to how much you two enjoy each other's company."

"Molly offers her expertise when I find it necessary, nothing more. Honestly are you so bored that you must project romances on others?"

"Is that what I'm doing? Then why'd I catch you two-"

"Oh look Brione, chocolate biscuits! I love chocolate biscuits, don't you?" Mary cut in quickly.

"One again Mary your verbal evasive maneuvers are flawless," Sherlock said dryly. I looked over to see Irene sitting silently, examining the three of us carefully.

"Any more of the biscuits?" I mumbled, gratefully taking it from Mary and nibbling on it to occupy my hands and keep my vocal chords out of commission.

"Tuesdays after dinner would work best for me, does that work for you as well?"

I paused, looking around to try and see who he was talking to.

"Yes, I mean you. Tuesdays, after dinner, are you free?"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand, free for what?" I asked.

"I wanted Sherlock to privately tutor you since, despite his absence of social graces, can be a rather prolific spell caster when he takes a breath from deducing his peers," Irene said, not tearing her gaze from Sherlock. In return the boy studied her with equal intensity, his face blank, but his eyes sharp and calculating.

"She's a year five, this is ambitious, even for you Miss Adler," he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, pressing hands together and touching the side of his index fingers to his lips, the tips of his thumbs touching his chin.

"She's my roommate and a fellow Ravenclaw, that makes her like family, and you know I'd do _anything_ for my family," Irene replied, not breaking the staring contest the two had started.

"Is that so? Because I could tell when you walked in the first day of school that you had not been home all summer. No, you had stayed with Mary's family."

"Family is a relevant term, it turns out blood's no thicker than water."

"How touching to see the stock you put in your friendships."

"Sherlock," Mary said, leaning around me to look at the dark haired boy. "I know tutoring isn't your thing, I'll make it worth your wile if you help us."

"You know I have no need for currency," Sherlock said stiffly, but there was a gleam of something in his eye.

"You know I'm not talking about money."

The boy beside me paused, glancing up at the ceiling as he thought.

"Fine," he said shortly. "I'll see you after dinner tonight."

Before I could protest he got up, his robes ruffling as he seemingly floated out of the room.

"Strange boy," I muttered.

"Things are only going to get stranger," Mary said with a knowing smile.

"Mary was born to muggle parents as well," Irene explained, smiling at her companion fondly. "And despite her having no knowledge of our world she's become the top of her class."

"I'm still not going to let you use my owl to send a letter to Kate," Mary smirked.

"Oh honestly Mary, I don't know what the problem is," the girl pouted.

"You have an owl! Use it!"

"She would recognize my owl and that would defeat the purpose of the whole thing now wouldn't it?"

"It's winter Irene, Doc isn't built for English winters!"

"Oh honestly Mary, he's not a butterfly, he can stand a flight from our room to the Gryffindor dorms."

"Irene, no means no," Mary said finally. Irene leaned back with a pout.

"Do you guys know where the History of Magic class is?" I asked, pulling the schedule I'd been given out of my robe.

"Oh sure, I can walk you there," Mary replied. "Are you excited for your first class?"

"I don't know if excited is the first word that comes to mind," I muttered. Mary sympathetically patted my hand.

"I know what you mean, or at least I have a vague idea. My fist day here I was scared out of my mind."

I gave her a grateful smile.

"I guess it's just kind of a relief to know-"

I was interrupted by a rustle of wings. Looking up I saw three owls soaring into the room, all carrying some sort of brown sack by a rope attached to one of their legs. As I stared at them in awe they swooped low, their burden landing lightly on the table while each of the owls took a place on Mary, Irene, and I's shoulder.

"Oh, my poor little Doc," Mary cooed, feeding the bird a warm piece of meat from her plate. "Who on earth put you up to this?"

The bird shook out his feathers as Mary gingerly untied the rope from his claw, the bird nuzzling her cheek when she was done.

"I was wondering where you'd gone off to," Irene said amusedly, using the back of her index finger to stroke the side of the Owl's white face. The beautiful white bird lightly nipped at her finger, Irene smiling at the creature as she undid the chord from his foot as well. I took the hint and untied the thin rope from the bird on my shoulder, the animal giving a tiny shake before snatching a piece of meat off my plate and taking off.

"Well that's quite the letter," Irene said, looking at the bag.

"Open it up!" Mary encouraged excitedly.

Hesitantly I reached out to loosen the drawstring that was keeping the leather bag shut.

It moved.

I don't think my hand would've shot back faster if you'd burned it. Panicked I looked at Mary and Irene who just shrugged.

"You're at a school where some of your required classes are transfiguration and flying, mysterious bags are nothing," Mary said.

I shot her a withering glance as I steeled myself, taking a deep breath and reaching out, loosening the drawstring and pulling open the bag.

"Mrow?"

A cat.

Three owls just delivered me a cat in a bag.

"Well this is interesting," Irene said, leaning forward, intrigued.

"I dont- What?" I asked dumbly, staring at the cat on the table, it's bright green eyes staring curiously back.

"Mrow?"

"Precious thing," Mary said, reaching out and scratching the cat's head. Irritatedly her owl, Doc nipped at her ear. The cat slunk out of the bag, stretching it's lean muscles and strolling up to me, rubbing it's head under my chin and purring.

"Is this a normal thing here?" I asked, leaning away from the animal. It looked annoyed at me, huffing as it strutted over to the bag and nosed it's way back in, quickly emerging with a white envelope clasped gently in it's maw. Walking over to me it dropped the letter in my lap, sitting down and wrapping its tail around its self. Accepting that, at this point, things couldn't get stranger, I gently peeled open the letter, breaking the red wax seal.

"Read it aloud," Mary said.

"Dear Miss Powell," I read, clearing my throat. "What a joy it was to hear you're finally at Hogwarts! I remember school years, some of the best years of my life, it's a pity you missed out on the first four! Headmaster Longbottom informed me had arranged for all of your supplies, but I want you to know I've made a deposit into your account at Gringott's that covers the materials purchased for you, plus some. Oh I just know you'll do wonderfully my dear. Here's a care package of sorts to help ease you into your new life, as well as a little company. Best wishes, L.S."

"Who's L.S.?" Mary asked.

"Damned if I know," I muttered, glancing over the note again before flipping it over. "Wait, here it says, 'P.S. Her name is Kip'." I glanced up from the paper, my eyes immediately meeting with large green ones barely four inches from my face.

"Mrow."

"Well looks like you and me are stuck together," I said with an amused smile at the animal. She let out a little mewl before standing back up and making another attempt at nuzzling her head under my chin. This time I relented, backing up just enough so I could scratch her head.

"Quite the cat you've got there," Irene noted, still lightly stroking her owl's face.

"Demanding little thing," I teased, reaching out and grabbing the bag off the table. Reaching inside I was met with soft fabric slipping between my fingers. Figuring it couldn't get much worse I wrapped my fingers around the material and pulled it out.

"Nice, cashmere is it?" Irene asked.

"Yea," I replied, running my fingers over the expensive looking scarf. I doubted I'd ever owned anything this nice, having been moved from convent to convent since I was 11.

"What else is there?" Mary asked.

Again I reached into the bag, this time coming into contact with some crinkly packaging.

"No way," I grinned, pulling out the heavenly sight of a packaged of Golden Double Stuffed Oreos. "I have no idea who this person is, but they must love me."

"Oh I haven't had Oreos since summer," Mary said wistfully.

"Then maybe we should show our little convent girl how to have a proper girls night," Irene grinned. I couldn't help but smile back as I dug my hand into the bag again, routing around a minute before finally pulling the last thing out.

"Nice journal," Mary commented.

"Mrow."

"What?" I asked the cat that was now staring at me expectantly.

"Mrow," she said stubbornly, getting up and sticking her head in the bag again.

"There's nothing in there," I said to the little cat, but she just wiggled her way deeper into the bag. After a moment she backed out, something glittering gold hanging from her mouth.

"Oh my, now that's beautiful," Mary murmured.

I held my hand out, Kip gently dropping the necklace in my hand for me to examine more closely. Hanging on a delicate chain was a little ornate gold key. Hands down it was one of the most beautiful things I've seen, I was almost worried to handle something so fragile looking in my hands, scared that it might break.

"Here, let me help you with that," Mary said. A little reluctantly I handed her the necklace, turning and holding my hair up so she could fasten the slender chain around my neck. She tapped my shoulder, signaling me to turn around, but she surprised me by grabbing her empty silver plate and flipping it around, making a makeshift mirror for me to examine the trinket.

"Wow, this is some secret Santa," I murmured, lifting my chin to give me a better view.

Polyvore: magic_santa/set?id=97824541

"I'll say," Irene said, reaching across the table to scan over my letter for herself. After a second she pulled an envelope out of her robe and slipped the letter inside, holding the thing out to her owl.

"You know where to take it Ghost."

The owl took the letter from her hand, pushing off of her shoulder and into the air, flapping out of the hall. I gave Irene a questioning glance, but she just shrugged, swinging her legs over the bench and standing up.

"Shall we go to class?"

"Yea, you've got a history lesson to go to and you'll probably want to drop all this off back in the room," Marry replied happily as I put everything accept for the necklace and the cat back into the bag and slung it over my shoulder.

"Ready?" Mary said with a smile. I nodded, not actually feeling very ready at all, but none the less standing up, only turning back to make sure Kip was following. It turns out I didn't have to worry though, because as I started to follow Irene and Mary out of the hall, Kip stayed glued to my side, and for the first time since I'd officially left the "muggle world" I felt reassured.

* * *

"Well I managed not to blow up the school!" I said brightly as Mary and I made our way to the Ravenclaw Tower.

She laughed. "That's always a good thing,"

"But in all seriousness it wasn't that bad, I only received odd looks from a few... everyone, but if looks are the worst of my problems, bring it on."

"That's the spirit," Mary said happily. I was about to reply when I noticed a sleek brown figure materialize from around the corner.

"Well there you are," I said as my cat fell in step beside me.

"Mrow."

"So should I be scared about this whole lesson thing? I mean I don't even know where we're meeting," I complained, nervously twisting my hair.

"Oh don't worry too much, Sherlock likes to sound all imposing and intimidating, but from what I've seen of you, you can handle him just fine."

Despite me only knowing Mary for about a half a day, her words made me feel better.

"He and Irene sure seemed to go at it."

Mary snorted.

"It's been an ongoing debate on wether we should prepare Mrs. Hudson for delivering a baby or disposing of a body."

I couldn't help but grin at that.

"Could you imagine her in childbirth?"

"Oh God, what kind of hellish nightmare that would be for us!" Mary laughed as we climbed the stairs to the top of the tower, coming face to face with the eagle door knocker.

"A criminal who's broken out of jail hijacks and airplane with priceless cargo and valuable passengers. After taking all he could cary from the cargo, he demands two parachutes. After receiving the parachutes he proceeds to put one on and jump, laving the other one behind. Why did he ask for two?"

"Hmm, what do you think?" Mary asked me, pursing her lips.

"Well," I started, mapping out the situation in my head. "If he asked for two parachutes it would imply two people were going to jump, and since he had no partner, that other person would have to be a hostage. So to make sure his parachute wasn't tampered with, he told them to bring two because he knew they wouldn't tamper with a parachute if there was a chance it might end up on the hostage."

"Well reasoned," the knocker replied, the door swinging open.

"Impressive, that would've taken me longer to figure out."

"Eh, attribute it more to my obsession with the criminal mind. I wanted to be a criminal profiler for the FBI before all of this," I explained.

"I have a feeling you would've been a great one," she said with a smile. "Still could be."

"Oh yes, I'm sure colleges would be tripping over themselves once they got a look at my transcripts," I said dryly.

Mary gave me a sympathetic smile as we climbed the stairs to our room, ignoring the inquisitive glances from my housemates.

"Not that you've had chance to really check out the hunting grounds, but is there anyone here who, you know _inspires_ you?" Mary asked with a giggle.

"Well," I said, opening the door with a swoop, giving her my best seductive face. "After spending so man years of my life in convents, I'm ready for someone tall, mysterious, and man enough to show me I've been missing."

"Is that so?"

I froze.

"So when you said after dinner, you meant immediately after dinner," I said, mentally slapping myself for my infallible bad timing. Gritting my teeth I turned, looking over to see Sherlock Holmes lounging on my bed like he owned the place in just his black slacks and white button down, his robe, tie and jumper laying discarded on my desk.

"Yes, most people of moderate of intelligence are able to understand 'after dinner' as 'after dinner'."

I pursed my lips, looking accusingly at Mary who just shrugged.

"Well I'm going to study. You two love birds play nice!" she said.

"Wait, Mary no-"

I was cut off by Mary slamming the door in my face. Great roommates I have, good start.

"So, now that you're done embarrassing yourself, shall we begin?"

"Right about this whole tutoring thing-"

"You might want to think before objecting. You're sixteen, yes? A fifth year? Right now you have the knowledge of someone five years your junior, so if I were you, and I never would be, I'd be taking any help I could get."

The room was silent as we stared each other down. I tried to make sense of this strange boy who seemed perfectly at ease stretched out on my bed. Was he partial to the outcome of this standoff, or was this something he cared nothing about either way? After spending so much of my life in aim of going into the psychology field I had a fairly good grasp of reading people but this one, he was a true mystery.

"Fine, where do we start?" I asked.

He smirked, seemingly feeling victorious as his eyes took on a predatory gleam.

"Let me see your wand."

"What?"

"Come now, I know you heard me. Your wand, let me see it."

I felt my eyebrows pull in slightly as I fished out the only thing I'd had time to purchase in preparation for coming here. The beautiful, slender piece of pale wood felt smooth under my palm as I pulled it out of my robe, my eyes not straying from Sherlock's even to take in the swirling design of the wand that made it look almost as if it was made of clouds or the physical manifestation of a dream. Without hesitation I walked over to my bed and held my wand out. I felt his fingers brush mine as his long, slender fingers closed over my wand, but I refused to jerk back. On the contrary I held fast, not breaking his stare as we both held on in some silent dare to the other to let go.

A tense, thick amount of time passed before Sherlock smirked, firmly easing the wand from my grip as he lifted it to his face to study it. His eyes moved back and forth rapidly, obviously taking in things I couldn't even begin to grasp, but it was fascinating watching him examine the wand like it was feeding him the pieces to some puzzle.

"Silver lime?" he asked, not looking up.

"Phoenix feather core," I finished.

"Supple, eleven and a half inches. Interesting. Perhaps-"

He froze.

"Oh."

"What is it?" I asked, suddenly on guard."

After a moment he seemingly snapped out of whatever though it was that was consuming him, all but thrusting my want at me before getting up and moving to the door.

"I'm sorry, that's it?" I asked.

"Yes, first lesson, never let anyone disarm you so easily. I will see you at breakfast tomorrow bright and early," he said, grabbing his clothes from my desk and shutting the door behind him. I don't know how long I stood there, utterly confused by the boy who was supposedly going to be tutoring me before I finally shrugged out of my robe and sat down on my bed, my wand still in my hands. Almost as if to reassure myself that he hadn't tampered with it, I ran my fingers over the patterns in the wood, finding it to feel the same as all the other times I'd run my fingers over it's designs. A little meow and a warm, fuzzy head nudging my arm alerted me to Kip's presence, making me realize she'd disappeared as soon as I'd walked into the room. Maybe she hadn't maybe she'd been lurking around the room somewhere, it's not like I hadn't been distracted by trying to figure out the enigma that was Sherlock Holmes, but somehow I got the feeling that she hadn't.

What a strange world this was.

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For anyone who's curious, here's everyone's animals

Polyvore: pets/set?id=97825612


	3. Chapter Three

This one gets a little dark towards the end, but it's a looking into Brione's past. Let's see how that goes.

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Polyvore: pjs/set?id=98338440

"Do you think they'd believe me if I said I was sick?" Mary said groggily.

"No," I snorted.

"What do you know?" Mary pouted. "You haven't even had a full day of classes yet!"

"Judging by the fact I have classes called 'potions' and 'charms', I'd say it wouldn't be worth it if they did believe you," I mumbled sleepily, rolling over so my back was to interior of the room, currently hidden behind a curtain. Lazily I scratched Kip's head who had decided her home would be a spare pillow resting on the window sill. Blearily she opened her eyes at me, letting out a tiered little mew before laying her head back down and closing her eyes.

"See, even the cat doesn't want to get up," Mary groaned.

"Leave my cat out of this."

"Would you two shut your mouths?" Irene hissed.

"Irene isn't a morning person," Mary explained.

"Excuse me for not enjoying your incessant prattle first thing in the morning," she snapped back defensively.

"Aww, I think someone needs some morning cuddles!" Mary cooed. There was the rustle of fabric and I heard Irene curse as a struggle ensued.

"Can you keep it down? I'm trying to sleep," I smirked.

"Mary Morstan if you don't get off me I'm going to made you vomit slugs until you beg for mercy!"

Mary's reply was cut off by the sound of our door flying open. Before anyone could say anything, my curtains were thrown open, causing me to blink against the sudden light. Behind the intruder I could see Irene hovering over Mary who's hands were tied by Irene's necktie and pinned above her head, but sanding in front of me was a rumpled looking Sherlock Holmes.

Wrapped only in a sheet.

"Morning to you too Sunshine," I muttered. He rolled his eyes, throwing a piece of paper at me.

"Your new schedule," he announced simply. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Care to explain why your in only a sheet? I'm sure you didn't want to rearrange my classes that badly."

He huffed, one hand reaching up to rumple his bed mussed hair.

"Lewd humor is by far the cheapest form of comedy."

"Hey, Wilde said sarcasm was the lowest form of wit, dirty jokes are fair game."

"I've talked to Professor Firenze, you'll be studying under him," Sherlock said looking up at the ceiling irritably.

"So," Irene purred from across the room, her eyes bright. "You think I'm right."

Sherlock glared at her smug smile.

"I think you may have made a few valid deductions. I will made no decision either way until there's evidence to support it."

"Not that I don't love cryptic and vague conversations about myself like I'm not even here first thing in the morning, but could someone please tell me what the hell you two are talking about?" I said, finally resigning myself to sitting up. Sherlock and Irene looked at me, Sherlock with irritation, Irene like a kid who knew a great secret.

"Well-"

"We don't know anything yet," Sherlock cut off, making Irene scowl at him.

"Wow that really clears things up," I muttered. "But seriously why are you here naked?"

Sherlock pursed his lips.

"I made a minor miscalculation with a new potion I was trying and ended up in temporary state of unconsciousness. I didn't have time to change and bathe so I just grabbed my sheet."

"You couldn't have given it to me at breakfast?"

"No time, we have to make up for the lesson you missed last night."

"Wait, lesson _I_ missed?" folding my arms and cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes yes," he said impatiently, turning to my roommates. "You two, get out."

"Lovely as always to see you too Sherlock," Mary said with a wry smile. "Irene, as much as I love being at your mercy, you can tie me up later."

"Careful," Irene warned. "I might take you up on that offer."

Both girls smirked as they got their clothes together to go get ready for the day, Sherlock standing in front of the bed that, as promised, our fourth roommate hadn't used last night, staring out the window. I sent Mary a pleading look as moved towards the door behind Irene, but she only gave me a wink and closed the door behind them with a click that echoed through the room with finality. An uncomfortable silence fell over the two of us. I twisted a strand of hair between my fingers as I pulled my knees up to my chest, staring at a spot on my duvet.

"So-"

"You had your first charms class yesterday, yes?" he said, not bothering to turn around as he cut me off.

"Why do I feel like you already know the answer to that?"

"I heard that you preformed quite adequately," he allowed.

"Careful, that's starting to sound like a compliment."

"You say that like you know me," he replied, turning to face me.

"Irene and Mary gave me a little background on everyone, including you."

"A bit risky forming your opinions on those of others, don't you think?"

"At least I don't form an opinion in one glance," I shot back.

"I make deductions based on the evidence in front of me and form my opinions accordingly, same as anyone else. The only difference is I'm much more efficient at it and I don't care about the irrelevant things."

"It's amazing what may seem irrelevant at first glance. Rather careless to just disregard things that don't interest you, don't you think?"

"You were able to preform the Levitation Charm quite proficiently I'm told."

"I managed," I huffed, growing annoyed. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something about Sherlock Holmes pushed my buttons.

"Show me," he replied, tossing one of Irene's text books on the floor. I looked at him questioningly.

"I preformed it on a feather, a textbook that weighs about as much as I do is a little different."

"If you can levitate a feather, you can levitate this."

I looked at him for a moment, my brow furrowing as I tried to get a grasp on this guy. One minute he was scolding me about my sense of humor, the next he was trying to get me to send textbooks flying across the room.

Deciding it would take less time to humor him than to argue with him, I pulled my wand out from where it rested under my pillow. Pulling back the covers I swung my legs around, cringing as my feet met with the cool wood floor. Sending one last withering glance at the impatient looking boy in my room I focused on the text book, taking a deep breath and recalling the instructions Professor Flitwick had given me about casting the charm.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

Nothing.

Sherlock snorted. "Can you at least pretend like you're trying?"

I glared at him, pursing my lips as I honed in on the book.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The book flew up with a flick of my wand. I couldn't help the pleased smile that formed on my face as I watched the book hover just below the ceiling. Biting my lip in concentration I focused on lowering the book back to the floor, the back cover hitting the wood with a soft thump.

"There," Sherlock said, satisfied. "See what happens when we stop being lazy?"

"You are just a big ball of positive reinforcement, aren't you?" I said dryly.

"No one ever achieved anything from being coddled," he sneered. "Now, you're skipping your morning class. Get dressed."

"What, what?" I asked, jumping up as Sherlock started to stroll out of my room.

"You heard me, why do people insist on being told things twice?"

"Hang on a second!" I cried as I followed Sherlock down the stairs, briefly making it into the common room before I forged on after him into the stairway of the boy's dormitory. All the time I trailed behind him I protested his orders, my objections soon turning to shouts of abuse as he ignored me.

Just as I was starting to calculate the force it would take me to throw the prat down the stairs, Sherlock stopped suddenly, causing me to smack right into his back. He glared at me before opening the door, not bothering to close it since he no doubt knew I would follow him. I slammed the door behind me as I planted my hands on my hips.

"You're seriously just going to order me about?!"

"Seeing as you'll probably learn more from than the information I'll give you than in any of the useless classes here, yes, I am."

I balked at him.

"You are unbelievable!"

"And you are irritating."

"I'm irritating?" I asked incredulously. "That's rich coming from you!"

"Oh don't be so dramatic," Sherlock sighed, walking over to his wardrobe and fishing out a crisp white shirt and black trousers and trowing them on the bed.

"Why don't _you_ quit being so callous!" I shot back. "Honestly you have to be the _most_-"

I was cut off by Sherlock suddenly dropping his sheet, revealing far more pale skin than I'd ever wanted to see of Mr. Holmes. With a squeak I spun around, smacking my hands over my eyes. Nothing, however, could remove the image of a naked Sherlock now burned into my mind.

"You know, at first glance you look like a proper Englishman, but now I'm starting to think you were raised by wolves!"

"You don't strike me as a blushing virgin," Sherlock said from the other side of the room. His smirk apparent in his voice even when I couldn't see it. "Perhaps your convent years have affected you more than you'd like to believe."

I almost whirled around to yell at him, but the flush in my cheeks reminded me that the door was much safer to look at currently than the target of my anger.

"Just because I don't want to see your bare ass doesn't make me a prude!"

"I second that."

My head whipped to the side at the sound of a new voice.

"Hi, I'm John, John Watson. Nice to meet you," a boy said from the bed immediately to my left. He gave me a tired, awkward smile, his kind face easing my agitating a bit, and I recognized him to be the one who'd shouted at Sherlock yesterday before joining the Gryffindor table.

"Brione Powell, hi," I said, pointedly not looking towards Sherlock as I walked over to shake John's hand. As he sat up and took my hand I noticed him to be about as opposite as Sherlock as possible. Where Sherlock was tall and lean, John was shorter and more muscular, with sandy hair and a soft face.

"Ah yes, I've heard about you. Only one day here and he's already got you shoutin' at him, eh?"

I felt myself flush in embarrassment for losing my temper so easily. Perhaps Irene wasn't the only one in our room who wasn't a morning person.

"Ah yes," I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Don't worry, you aren't the first, and you definitely won't be the last. In fact, I think it's about my turn." John's smile turned forced as his voice raised in a pointed manner. "Because **someone** decided to try out their new potion on me. Without my knowledge."

"It was disconcertingly easy. Honestly John I though being muggle born you'd be more cautious of taking drinks from other people."

"That's because I didn't think you'd roofie me like a drunk college girl!" John yelled, glaring at the other boy.

"Uh, should I leave?" I asked.

"No, no I'm leaving," John said, hopping up and grabbing his blazer off the foot of the bed and shrugging it on. "Good to meet you," John nodded at me before moving to exit. Something made him pause though as he threw a glance at the dark haired boy, walking back over to me and leaning down so the side of his face almost touched mine.

"I know he's a git, but he'll grow on ya eventually. Rather like a fungus, but a relatively harmless one. I can tell you one thing though, you won't find a better tutor if you learn how to live with him."

I didn't know how to reply when John patted me on the back and threw another hard glance at Sherlock before stalking out of the room and closing the door with a bit more force with necessary. Moving a bit slower than normal, I decided adequate time had passed, and turned around to sat on the edge of the desk and regarded a now clothed Sherlock.

The minutes dragged on as we stared at each other, not quite in a standoff, but not comfortably either. With a sigh I ran a hand through my mussed hair, setting my wand down on the desk and crossing my arms over my chest.

"Alright, what do you have in mind?" I asked.

"Well you seem to have a fair amount of concentration and moderate intelligence-"

"Gee thanks."

"So I'd like to test your current skills to see how much work I have ahead of me. I have an experiment set up in one of the old classrooms. That's where we'll begin. Come on," he said simply, adjusting his collar and walking past me.

"Wait! Uh, can't I get dressed first?" I asked a little self consciously, remembering I was only wearing my pajama shorts and a baggy t-shirt along with some socks Mary had lent me that ended about my knees.

"No time," Sherlock said, about to open the door and walk out, when he hesitated, glancing back at me before grabbing something from behind the door and throwing it at me. "Put this on."

I didn't have a chance to protest before he threw open the door and started down the stairs. With a huff I found the dark bundle of fabric Sherlock had given me was a Ravenclaw robe and after taking a moment to shrug on the garment and grab my wand, I took off after him.

Sherlock's long legs allowed him to descend the stairs much faster than me, and I was glad that I'd picked up running in my time at the convents. As we finally made our way to the bottom and into the Ravenclaw common room, I found myself once again having to ignore the curious stares of my classmates as I followed my curious tutor through the room with my head down. It felt like it took forever to reach the door, but by the time I did I was practically on Sherlock's heels. When I finally heard the door to Ravenclaw tower close, I released a breath I didn't even know I was holding. Sherlock cast a curious glance back at me, his pace slowing until he was walking next to me.

"Your hair is dyed."

I snorted.

"And here I was told you were supposed to be some super observer."

He rolled his eyes at me, pursing his lips.

"You've been living in various convents for many years now, I wasn't aware they kept a stock of red hair dye. No, the amount of grow out implies you've had the color for, oh a little less than a month but you would've still been living under the supervision of the good sisters. So that begs the question, how and why you'd do something that would be no doubt frowned upon by your caretakers."

I pursed my lips, casting the boy beside me a sideways glance.

"We snuck out. One of the girls and I. She'd been living in that convent since she was twelve. It was a horribly strict one, especially for her. Lyra had a rebellious side to her, actually it was her only side. She got a tattoo."

I was surprised when Sherlock cracked a small smile.

"What?"

The smile grew, a small chuckle escaping his lips that he quickly tried to cover up by rubbing a hand over the bottom half of his face.

"What is it?" I repeated, a smile of my own twisting at my lips.

"I'm just picturing my great grandmother in a veil and habit, spitting mad. She was a rather tiny thing, stout and strong as a bull, and when she'd get angry all of the great grand children would hide around the house, lest we get a taste of her and her wooden spoon."

I laughed.

"I'm pretty sure my great grandmother was a butcher."

Sherlock's deep tenor voice vibrated through his chest with a low chuckle. It was amazing how comforting, even attractive his voice sounded when he wasn't being a tosser.

Much to my dismay Sherlock lead us to the Grand Staircase, or as I called it, the stairs from hell. Distrustfully I eyed the stairs as they moved about, frowning at Sherlock as I caught his amused glance.

"Just stay close," he said simply, grabbing onto the a rail that soon started to move. With a huff I jumped onto the staircase, running into Sherlock in the process. He raised an eyebrow an almost indiscernible smile turning up his lips.

I swatted his arm.

"You knew it was about to move!" I accused.

"A simple examination of your reflexes," he replied innocently.

I muttered under my breath, glaring half-heartedly at the much taller boy. Damn my height.

After finishing the obstacle course this school called a staircase, Sherlock lead me down a series of halls that made me entertain the possibility that this school very well may be infinitely big before opening a door into a dark, empty classroom. I coughed as the breeze from the door upset the layer of dust in the room, batting irritatedly at my nose. Sherlock strolled into the room towards the only piece of furniture in the space, a large, old mirrored wardrobe that gave off an ominous feel. Suddenly feeling like following Sherlock was a horrible idea, I hung back, my hand tightening around my wand.

"Sherlock?"

"Come on," he said impatiently, pausing to give me an assessing glance. "Unless you want to miss _all_ of your morning classes."

Steeling my nerves I walked over to him, standing beside him and facing the wardrobe.

"I'll bite, why are we here."

"In there," he said slowly. "Is a boggart."

"A what?"

"A boggart," he replied, impatience creeping back into his voice. "It's a creature who's shape is unknown and can't be killed. On sight it turns into what you fear most and is only dispelled with the incantation, Riddikulus."

I opened my mouth to protest but Sherlock started in again.

"Now," he said, taking the hand that held my wand by the wrist. "Your hand should move as such. Now you have to concentrate absolutely, you cannot let your fear distract you. Keep your movements firm and forceful. When the boggart takes the form of your fears, focus on something that would make it more amusing, that's what form the Riddikulus charm if force it to take so it can be forced back into the wardrobe. Now, let's begin."

"Hold on!" I yelled, grabbing his arm and yanking him back just as his fingers brushed the wardrobe.

"I'm not doing this."

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Don't be so dramatic, every student here will face the boggart. Might as well get it over with now."

I grabbed his arm more firmly when I felt him begin to pull away.

"Beside the fact that I've only had one charms class and a half-assed how-to from you, I'm not doing this, _especially_ in front of you."

I could almost hear the gears turning in Sherlock's head as he studied me, eyes flicking back and forth between mine and various places on my person. He seemed to come to some conclusion since he stepped back, nodding.

"I understand, and I'm sorry."

I knew the second the words left his mouth what was going to happen. For a second I made a grab for him as he jumped back, hand firmly gripping the hand of the wardrobe as he pulled the mirrored door open. Ice spread through my veins as I defensively raised my wand, feeling sick as the boggart swirled into a solid form.

"It's your fault," the girl in front of me hissed, her voice gravely from years of smoking and drinking. "If it weren't for you, you little freak he'd still be here!"

I lifted my wand and opened my mouth to say the incantation, but the sounds stuck in my throat. The girl shimmered, her hair wild and eyes cold.

"You are an evil on this home!" her voice thundered, this time the words sounding lower and masculine. "A curse on your family!"

"R-R-Ri-"

"There's no hope for you," she spat, now her voice taking on a matronly, superior tone. "You are a spawn of the enemy of humanity, you will _rot_ with the rest of your kind!"

I gritted my teeth, focusing on the face I knew so well. Pushing everything away I fisted my free hand as I raised my wand.

"Riddikulus!" I yelled.

The girl sneered at me.

"I can't even stand to look at you," she purred, her voice taking on that deep tone I one found so comforting. "You're not even human, you're a freak, a monster and I _hate_ you."

I felt a cool calm wash over me as I stared the girl in the eye, the one that exactly mirrored my own.

"Riddikulus."

Before me the girl's form my form, wavered and swirled down into the shape of a little doll in a nun's dress. Pursing my lips I grabbed the doll and threw it into the wardrobe, tightly shutting the door on it.

"Bri-"

"No," I said firmly, turning and walking out of the room, leaving behind Sherlock Holmes and his little experiment.


	4. UPDATE!

So because I despise the formatting on here Spellbound is on AO3. My username is the same on there as it is one here.


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